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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27106507">The Book of Lightning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintIere/pseuds/SaintIere'>SaintIere</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Tale of the Ikazuchi [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Forbidden Love, Graphic Description of Corpses, Infidelity, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:14:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,360</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27106507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintIere/pseuds/SaintIere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You are here to remind me of someone I long for, and what is it you long for yourself? We must have been together in an earlier life, you and I.”<br/>― Murasaki Shikibu, The Tale of Genji</p><p>The end of the Warring States had left the shinobi world reeling, yet hopeful. Where clans and tribes formed villages and countries, there came the need for organisation. Politics. Tobirama found most of it distasteful, but necessary. He walked the line between his brother's effusive people-pleasing and a more cynical, utilitarian leadership. Self-denying to a fault, he made hard decisions, honed his jutsu and remained isolated. He did not desire to become like Hashirama. Though powerful, and truly fitting of his title as the God of Shinobi, Hashirama was stricken by the plights of others. His heart bled for them, even for people like Madara. After the loss of his brothers, Tobirama was adamant that his path was set far away from sentimentality. </p><p>Yet all it took was a woman, stumbling onto that path whilst trying to escape her own fate. She was lost in her own right, and if he was smart, he would have let her be. But she kept returning to him, and he could not turn her away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Senju Tobirama/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Tale of the Ikazuchi [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978591</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Book of Lightning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome to the fic! This story is actually part one of its series, but the companion work, the Book of Thunder, takes place many decades after. The Ikazuchi clan themselves have been influenced by a lot of Asian mythologies, especially some bits of Hindu mythology that I learned from my grandfathers. That being said, the whole system is a hodgepodge of things, and none of the myths or creatures here are intended to fully reflect their real-world counterparts at all.</p><p>The timeline for the fic follows "The Ultimate Naruto Timeline" by seelentau; their version uses Naruto's birth as the central time marker, so:</p><p>bNb: years before Naruto was born<br/>aNb: years after Naruto was born</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[43 bNb]</p><p>The year after the founding of Kumogakure saw only a moderate ease in tensions. In the early days, clans would arrive often—seeking an end to the fighting, and a seat at the table. Now, as the tide slowed, there had been time to settle. Forging normalcy required routines, and within a village, these also required persons to find their places in this new society. For some, this came easily, but for the ones whose places were not easily assigned...old tensions rankled. The Ikazuchi clan had found itself in a fortunate position, both because of its pivotal role in forming the village, and because of its sheer power. Few wanted to ostracise or wrong the clan that boasted a mysterious and dangerous guardian—and many wanted their advantageous bloodline settled in the village. The fortunate position was not without duty, however, and as the clan was accustomed to <em> duty </em>, its members fell in line almost effortlessly. As all things do, the duties began to change—and the proud warriors had become something of a political force instead. </p><p>The terrible storms of August brought a new level of dread to the clans. The village was still in its infancy, and the murmurings of unrest—alongside the almost endless skirmishes, had become worrying. The Shodai Raikage had been busy placating the masses, leaving the more routine goings of his job to his most trusted advisor. Hayane waited obediently for her father to return each evening—taking care not to hover near the door as it carried the tendency to set the older man off. He would rarely admit it, but he preferred her greetings to her mother’s. There was something about her that he found calming and serene—and she was a dab hand at blending his tea to his liking. </p><p>As the leader of the Ikazuchi clan, Toshihaya had been raised to carry his duty without bending. Though exhausted by the new responsibilities, he saw them positively rather than as burdens—besides, he respected few people, but Shodai Ay was one of them. This evening, Toshihaya returned through the stubborn gales and pelting rain, drenched completely through to the bone. On cue, as he finished removing his shoes, his daughter appeared with a towel, a maid on her heel with a change of clothes. </p><p>“Welcome back, my lord father.”</p><p>He gave her a nod, accepting the towel silently. She bowed to him.</p><p>“I’ll set the tea out in your room. I’ll send for soup while dinner is being finished,” she said quietly, before leaving him to his privacy. </p><p>She could tell from the tightness around his mouth—the way his eyes were more sternly held than normal, that things weren’t going well. The heir to the clan, her brother, had been out on a mission since the last morning, but she wished he was still here. If tensions rose to a breaking point, the Raikage would require every powerful voice on his side as possible. </p><p>She <em> knew </em> what the problem was. Or rather, who the problems were—Kinkaku and Ginkaku. The Gold and Silver brothers had drastically different ideas around what it meant to rule a village than Shodai Ay, and further, they positively loathed his desire to seek peace with the other nations. Expansionist to a fault, they perceived talk as weakness. Hayane sighed to herself as she stoked the brazier in her father’s quarters, before placing the kettle. Things would get worse before they would improve—like lancing a boil. The problem was, this particular boil had two heads, and the chakra of the Kyubi. The stilted background noise in her head was growing annoying, and she found herself closing her eyes, willing them to quieten. After a moment of focus, the voices fell back behind the mental wall she sought to strengthen.</p><p>The sliding of the door behind her signalled that her father had arrived, and she placed a warm cup before him wordlessly, before pouring the hot water into the teapot. The fragrance of black tea and spice rose warmly through the chilled, humid air. The minutes passed in further silence, with only her thoughts to occupy the time until the tea had finished steeping. Pulling her kimono sleeve out of the way, she poured the cup full. Before she could bow and excuse herself, her father finally spoke. </p><p>“I’ve received word that the Shodai Hokage has captured the Kyubi on his own,”</p><p>Hayane stared at him, dumbfounded. “By himself? Surely not.”</p><p>“I don’t doubt it,” he said, sipping the tea before continuing. “It seems his Wood Release is everything it was famed to be.”</p><p>“What does this mean for us?” she asked. “I can’t imagine Kinkaku and Ginkaku’s obsession with causing a war would work. They may have some of the Kyubi chakra, but what would that do in the face of the real thing?”</p><p>“That’s exactly the issue,” her father looked tired. It was as if the weight of the burdens had finally caught up. “This has changed everything. We can’t consider going against Konoha so stupidly.”</p><p>“Even if we did push them back, the cost would never be worth the lives we would lose.”</p><p>“They don’t see things that way, of course,” he said. “They are currently fuelling whispers that Lord First has allowed this to happen. That if we had made our move sooner, this would never have occurred. Of course, they seem to think we can stand against the Kyubi with them,”</p><p>Hayane made a face. “Why would we Ikazuchi put every one of our lives on the line for this? Don’t they know what the guardian summoning does?”</p><p>“They’re foolish,” Toshihaya said dryly. “They throw their lives at every challenge and think we should do the same. They don’t care about whether the village survives after that.”</p><p>She remained silent, turning the possibilities around mentally while the wind rushed and pulled at the building around them. “We should be focusing all of our efforts on surviving the season. Not this.”</p><p>“You’re correct,” </p><p>There was a knock, and the maid slid the door open to bring her father a bowl of clear broth. She waited for the maid to withdraw before speaking again. </p><p>“Do you think this will boil over before Hayanosuke returns?”</p><p>“It’s entirely possible,” he answered. “After they returned with the Kyubi chakra, I realised that those two and their followers aren’t the vapid nihilists I thought they were. They want power and glory above all else. To them, if you survive, you are worthy. You are powerful. If the village crumbles under their pressure, it is weak.”</p><p>“They’re also dirty fighters,” she pointed out. “Underhanded. I suppose they think that winning under any circumstances is acceptable.”</p><p>“Exactly,” he said. “And after this current development…” he traced his hand around the rim of the bowl in thought. “I fear they will become more desperate.”</p><p>Hayane frowned. “What do Sandaime and Nodaime Ay think?”</p><p>“Nodaime Ay is caught up with Lord First’s protection. I don’t think he has the time or energy to consider much else,” Toshihaya said. “Sandaime is ready to pulverise those two into bloody smudges on the road.”</p><p>“Perhaps he has the right of it,” she said.</p><p>The corners of her father’s mouth twitched up, and he looked at her with a surprisingly gentle gaze. “Sometimes I despair over the fact that you weren’t a son. You would make a better heir.”</p><p>Hayane shook her head. “With respect, lord father, I am content with my place. I don’t want anything else—far less the troubles you and Hayanosuke have. I just want to grow plants and heal scratches.”</p><p>The laugh that broke through her father’s usually stern demeanour was bitter. “I think you may be healing more than scratches with the way this is going. But you have brought up a good point. Your place here won’t be safe under these circumstances.”</p><p>She tilted her head for a moment, confused, but then, in a rush of unpleasant realisation—</p><p>“If the brothers depose you both, then one of them will force me into a marriage to take over the clan.”</p><p>“You see? That’s why I despair. You’re too smart for plants and scratches,” </p><p>“Lord father, what are you thinking? Sending me away? Or a marriage?” she asked. “Couldn’t they just find me or kill my husband too?”</p><p>“They could do both of those things,” he reasoned. “But perhaps killing your husband would be more ill-advised if you were married into the Ryutsuki clan. They, after all, are the ones helping the brothers keep their Kyubi chakra in check.”</p><p>Of course. The notoriously neutral Ryutsuki were known for their prowess at sealing jutsu; before the village was created, all clans had known better than to sour a relationship with them. The only ones more proficient in sealing arts were the Uzumaki clan. The Ikazuchi had often used their services for more <em> troublesome </em> main family members who could no longer control the burden of the guardian. Marrying into the clan, however, could be seen as an effort to sway their allegiance.</p><p>...which it plainly would be.</p><p>“How would you go about getting this match?”</p><p>Toshihaya’s smile widened. He almost seemed <em> proud </em>. “No complaining, instead straight to the practicalities. Good. I have already sown the seeds; lucky for us, the current clan head is interested in building closer alliances now that we are a village. It seems they feel isolated now.”</p><p>“And what does Lord Raikage say?”</p><p>“He prefers this to an all out civil war,” Toshihaya said. “If this match is set, then perhaps the unthinkable will happen and the brothers will quieten. We’ll sway the scales decisively in our favour for generations.”</p><p>Hayane felt uneasy. “Trapped animals bite.”</p><p>“We will deal with it if things come to that. But we must deal with the problem before us.”</p>
<hr/><p>Tobirama had become accustomed to eating while he read, and despite his desire to enjoy the sliced tuna at his leisure, he was now engrossed in work, relegating sustenance to a mere necessity. The gentle chiding of his brother’s wife fell on deaf ears—it was more routine now than anything, and he registered her fiery hair in his periphery as she took her place at the table. </p><p>“Why are you always starting on things so early?” Hashirama sighed at him, taking up the space at the head and pulling a cup of tea towards himself. “You should at least wait until you go to the office.”</p><p>“If I do this now, then when I get to the office, I can see to the things that can only be done there,” he replied simply. “The Inuzuka clan is asking to be settled.”</p><p>“Inuzuka,” Hashirama said idly. “The dog clan?”</p><p>“Yes, the dog clan,”</p><p>“Do we have space in the town proper? Or should we give them more undeveloped land?” Hashirama put his chopsticks to his chin in thought. “Do dogs require all that much space?”</p><p>Mito smiled at him, “I’m sure they’ll tell you.”</p><p>“I would like to get them settled here before the situation with the other countries turns into all out war,” Tobirama said. </p><p>His brother’s face turned from childlike wonder to businesslike at once. “I agree. I was hoping to placate them, but if it all fails, the clans in our country should be somewhere safe.”</p><p>“I imagine more people will seek us out,” Tobirama continued. “While the Kyubi has scared some settlers, it also seems to scare the other nations,” he watched as Mito quietly finished her tea. “If things continue to get worse, people will soon overcome their squeamishness about sharing a village with a demon fox. Especially if the rest of the countries are more frightened of it than they are.”</p><p>“Well, we will be prepared to take them,” Hashirama said simply. “We will welcome all.”</p><p>“A wonderful sentiment, esteemed brother, but we need to consider our land, our resources, our food production and we need to vet them,” Tobirama said. “I think our time for warm, placid welcomes is done. We require a system—with all the rules and specificities enshrined.”</p><p>Hashirama wilted. “What do you propose?”</p><p>“I’ll come up with the particulars,” he said. He knew his brother was not one for this kind of rigidity, and while Hashirama would not dispute its necessity—he would be less than helpful in creating the thing. “You can look it over and suggest changes as necessary.”</p><p>“Just don’t make it too difficult,” Hashirama said. “I won’t let the village become a place that prides itself on turning those in hardship away.”</p><p>Tobirama inclined his head. “I don’t want that to be the case either. It’s not realistic, and it isn’t what either of us wanted Konoha to be. I will balance the need for scrutiny with our desire for humanity.”</p><p>He set down his chopsticks and drained his now lukewarm tea; without further dalliance, he rose from the table, tucking the papers into his haori. The look of concern on Hashirama’s face was perplexing—it was one of those things he could understand, having been an older brother himself, but the <em> contents </em> of that feeling escaped him. What was he in need of concern for? He recalled the first time his brother had sought to broach a touchy topic and groaned internally. They had this conversation at least a year ago, at the marriage of his and Mito’s son. </p><p>~</p><p>
  <em> Hashirama had been mopping his eyes with a handkerchief, and caught the look of vague disapproval from his brother. “Oh, don’t give me a hard time today,” he chimed with a watery smile. “I could have been embarrassing you like this on your own wedding day if you weren’t such a sour recluse. Shouldn’t you consider settling down, Tobirama?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Mito had sighed, the ceremonial tags on her hairpins swaying as she shook her head. “Husband, maybe this isn’t the right time to have this conversation?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Your wife is right,” Tobirama had answered blandly. “This isn’t the time or place, brother. Go and be merry with your son and daughter-in-law.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And the humorous expression had gone from his brother’s face, as it often would when he suddenly found the need to be serious. “I worry sometimes. One day this isolation may finally take its toll.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He had frowned, folding his arms in discomfort. “I’ve given my life to this village. The dream of building a place for the young Wills of Fire is enough for me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hashirama had smiled again—though it was sad. He’d turned to the wedding party, all busily talking amongst themselves and lost in the frivolity. “You could have a little one to pass your Will of Fire to.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Tobirama had followed his brother’s gaze, and was unsure of what he felt in that moment. Wistfulness, maybe. He had put the feeling aside, and instead, had filled the void (however small) with his sense of purpose. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “As I said, building the village is enough.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ~ </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>The clouds had become less daunting—less grey and saturated at last. Hayane sought to make use of the relatively fine weather, and had bundled as much of her herbs as she could spare into a square of cotton. She’d moved their pots inside before the storms, but admittedly, they hadn’t thrived indoors. A few of her garden flowers were still attached to their plants, though waterlogged, and were passable enough to be picked. She took the brightest and most springy bloom—a large orange dahlia, into the family shrine, placing it carefully into the delicate white vase on the kamidana. She prayed hard that morning, mostly to the ancestors: those many, faceless—though not <em> voiceless </em> forebears who had given the clan its power. The rest of the still-living flowers were packed into a paltry bouquet, and she was off.</p><p>The sun was stinging to the eyes as she left the Ikazuchi’s main house; it bounced off every puddle and stray raindrop that still hung from plants and rooftops, causing her to squint and avert her gaze until she had passed into the shade. The village was still coming into its own, with construction quite halted until better weather was assured. Those who were unlucky enough to find their residences delayed were huddled in the homes of better-connected friends, who had been first on the list to be housed. The Ikazuchi were not part of either group, and Hayane quietly wondered if this would further fester resentment. Their fortune was such that they had multiple residences—a main house, where she resided with her mother, father and formerly her brother, several other, smaller houses for the branch family members, and another small but grand house that she was headed to now. </p><p>She had not been comfortable with this arrangement, though when the village was established, of course, no one would want to hear from a then-nineteen-year-old. Especially a <em> nineteen-year-old girl </em> . The Shodai Raikage claimed that he was not one for <em> overt </em> favouritism, but the fact that their families had been connected for generations showed. Even with the best intentions, Lord First had been caught up in the old way of thinking: settle those you know and love in comfort, and then perhaps, give the leftover crumbs to the others. He was slow to change, though, he did seem to be making progress. Given the general discontent, however, Hayane wondered if it would be too late. Their land was indeed fed off the wealth of their founding clans, but that richness was in itself built from a mixture of luck and brutality. It wasn’t completely <em> earned </em>, though not completely without sacrifice. </p><p>The walkways between the mountainous outcroppings in the village were her favourite part of the place. They were breezy, and provided a wonderful view of the whole area, unmarred by the shadow of any looming building. At this one, she gazed at the shinobi milling about below, pulling construction materials out of the mud and even from this great height, looking generally miserable. The storm had taken an already dwindling morale, and had made it soggy. She sighed and continued walking, her thoughts tumultuous. </p><p>The possibility of going backwards—to <em> that </em> time was chilling. It seemed so close, yet so distant—like a bad dream, half-remembered. The smell of blood, the meaty smell of viscera and the unsettling way that a person’s insides <em> twitched </em> warmly under the hands when they were still alive. Blood was slick, and there was always so much of it. Most of the men they brought back to her died. The ones she could save had been unable to ever fight again. It was almost pathetic, really, she thought bitterly. She was only given the most dire cases—the lost causes, in the hope that her unusual healing style could provide a miracle. Unfortunately, it rarely worked that way. She hated it. Cradling the dying, raising sake cups to parched lips to give tortured men a last toast, and then covering them up when the light left their eyes. She’d never overseen an Ikazuchi death—though she was grateful for it. She didn’t want to see what happened when the guardian arrived to claim the corpse. </p><p>It was almost fortunate that when an Ikazuchi was captured or gravely wounded, the enemy took special care to ensure they were dead. They were too dangerous otherwise.</p><p>She reached the smaller Ikazuchi residence, and knocked once. A maid opened the door and bowed deeply, before taking the bundle of herbs from her arms. Hayane carefully stepped onto the polished wooden corridor after shedding each shoe—quite unwilling to take the chance of getting her socks wet from the water that was tracked in from outside.</p><p>“Lady Kogane is in the tea room,” the maid said. “I will announce you.”</p><p>She followed the woman down the hall, noting that the murmured assent on the other side of the door was rather listless. Hayane entered the room, bowing politely to her brother’s wife. Kogane had kept her yellow-blonde hair loose today, and had seemingly neglected to brush it—or let anyone else brush it, for that matter. </p><p>“I brought you the flowers that made it through the storm,” Hayane said.</p><p>Dark eyes moved towards the sad little bouquet and she managed a smile. “Thank you, dear sister. I’ll put them in water at once.”</p><p>“I think they can wait, they might be a little sick of water.”</p><p>Kogane laughed—finally becoming a step closer to her normal, bubbly demeanour. “I see. I’m glad they haven’t all drowned.”</p><p>“I am too,” Hayane agreed. “I spent a long time getting them all planted when we arrived. I also brought some mint and other herbs for you.”</p><p>“I’m sure that cook will put them all in my dinner,” Kogane said with a sigh. “They think I’m ill.”</p><p>“You do worry us when you stop laughing,” </p><p>The smile faded from her face. “I just cannot find the mirth any more. Has there been news?”</p><p>Hayane shook her head. “Not that I know of. Judging from how father has been carrying himself, he hasn’t heard anything either. I don’t know why he’d hide it from me if he did, anyway.”</p><p>“This mission…” she trailed off, anxiously running her thumb across the broach in her obi, “he said it was short. He should have been back by now; it’s been more than a week.”</p><p>“I know. I expect the Raikage will send men after his team soon.”</p><p>“What if he’s dead, sister?”<br/>
<br/>
“Hayanosuke is not dead,” Hayane said firmly. “The guardian hasn’t collected him.”</p><p>“Can’t he be found by the thing? Can’t it tell us where he is?”</p><p>“No, he hasn’t called the guardian at all,” Hayane sighed. “Father did the summoning and asked. The guardian can’t track us until death, as per the agreement—the provision was meant to protect the clan’s privacy.”</p><p>Kogane shifted her wandering thumb, instead running it across the stretch of kimono at her thigh—where the guardian’s brand would lie. “If I could summon that thing, I would make it take me to him. Why do you never teach us mere wives and husbands about it?”</p><p>“It’s not something everyone can do,” Hayane explained. “Even among the Ikazuchi, we’ve had main branch members who’ve gone mad after unleashing the power in that brand.”</p><p>"Is hearing the voices of your ancestors that bad?"</p><p>Hayane shrugged. "It isn't pleasant. They're ancestors are also trapped in the guardian, so...some of them are rather unhappy. It's hard to pick out voices, but when you do, you often regret it."</p><p>"It isn't fair. We took the brand when we married into the family. That fate is ours too." She said bitterly. “But spouses aren't ever considered full members, and the technique for the summoning is <em>hiden</em>.” </p><p>“There is that aspect too,” Hayane inclined her head in acknowledgement. “But don’t fret about it. Hayanosuke will come back, and you won't need to open your head for a horde of old dead people.”</p><p>“You hide your worry well,” Kogane pointed out. “Or is it that you’re preoccupied with your impending marriage?”</p><p>“Oh, you’ve heard about that?”</p><p>“The maids talk to one another, and I think in an effort to take my mind off everything, the prattling has reached my ears,” Kogane said. “How do you feel about this?”</p><p>“I haven’t really had the time to think about it,” she admitted. “I’m too caught up with the circumstance that makes the whole thing necessary.”</p><p>Kogane gave her a sad smile. “Well, it isn’t what you wanted, is it? I remember you were so taken with the idea of falling in love back when I married your brother.”</p><p>“Childish,” she shook her head. “It was just a dream—after all, I knew how my parents were matched. I knew how you and my brother were matched too.”</p><p>“But we <em> did </em> fall in love,” Kogane said, her voice warm. “It took time, but I think it was worth it. The maids mentioned that your father is interested in Ryutsuki Sandayu.”</p><p>“The eldest son,” Hayane had to hand it to her father. He was being quite ambitious. “So he’s really trying to tie our clans together in earnest then.”</p><p>“Lucky for you, he’s handsome,” she continued. “Pity that the children never take their looks from the spouses. He has such pretty green eyes. Is there a chance of inheriting them?”</p><p>The thought was strange—as though they were discussing the future of someone else, and Hayane remained a mere spectator. It somehow felt unreal, to be thinking of this...her impending marriage, and her future children. “I've heard only a handful of Ikazuchi children who came out with the other parent's features. Usually they get very little outside the clan; at least not their skin, hair or eyes.”</p><p>“Unfair,” Kagone said, an air of her usual dramatic humour slipping in. “It’s like we never exist in your bloodline. We're used for breeding and then get erased. Though I suppose that’s why everyone covets you all; no need for incest to keep your kekkei genkai.”</p><p>It was true—but that also came with the fact that few Ikazuchi ever managed to <em> have </em> children to begin with. She doubted two clan members would be able to procreate at all. Her own family, consisting of a household bearing two children, was an almost unheard of boon. Kagone and Hayanosuke had been married for at least five years, and borne only a single daughter. The trend was a rather touchy subject for the clan, and thus, was very little discussed—hidden by the appearance of haughtiness and structure, so their propagation seemed controlled rather than unintentionally sparse. It was also one of the reasons that the Ikazuchi allied so closely with the Raikage’s family. Though there were legends of the Ikazuchi and the Raikage’s family being distantly related—bearing back to a time before the clan was so genetically odd, it mattered little. There was simply strength in numbers.</p><p>---</p><p>Hayane sat across the table from her prospective husband, as their fathers made the prescribed small-talk. The tension in the room was thick, and the many layers of her kimono felt especially heavy today. She had ceased wearing her daily long-sleeved <em> furisode </em>after turning twenty, and had grown accustomed to the relatively unencumbered existence within a grown woman’s kimono. The formal versions, however, were quite the different story. On other days, she could ignore the discomfort, but now… it was yet another burden upon burdens.</p><p>Ryutsuki Sandayu stared obediently and politely at the surface of the table during the discussion, only raising his head when asked a question directly. Kagone was correct—he was a good-looking man of twenty-five, with long, deep brown hair and startlingly green eyes. Hayane had not spoken to him before, though, at family meetings she had always seen him at his father’s side. He was reputed to be an excellent shinobi in his own right, versed in the clan’s various sealing jutsu and proficient in at least two chakra natures. Like his father, his style seemed to err towards direct combat—as he was known to incapacitate his targets before sealing them into scrolls for easy transport or disposal. This had come in handy these past days, where defectors from the village were captured before they could sell or trade their valuable secrets. </p><p>“In the event that your son and heir does not return,” Lord Ryutsuki shifted his eyes towards her, and she broke out of her reverie at once. “His child Kohaya is only a year old—and of course, she is a daughter. I would imagine that an experienced woman is better than a child, so would you pass your leadership to Lady Hayane? What would this mean for us? If our children marry, would I pass my position to my younger son, rather than my eldest and his children?”</p><p>“The clan leadership would be in dispute, it is true,” Toshihaya nodded. “You have a point that Kohaya is too young. If there is a succession, I would pass my mantle to Hayane, with the intent that her son will take over. I know that both Hayane and Sandayu,” he looked to the young man, who inclined his head respectfully, “could raise children to the standard of the Ikazuchi. Kohaya, without her father, is less certain, and I would not take her away from her mother.”</p><p>It made her ill. All of this talk as though Hayanosuke was already dead. Another week had come and gone, and he and his squad had not returned. </p><p>“And again, what of the Ryutsuki?”</p><p>“That is your decision to make,” he said flatly. “You can pass your clan's leadership to your younger son, stripping Sandayu of the role he was brought up to do...or, perhaps, his child can inherit both.”</p><p>Lord Ryutsuki stared. “Both.”</p><p>“Unless they have two sons, and of course our job is made easier.”</p><p>The man laughed, before waving the thought away as though it were a gnat. “We both know your family line is stubborn in that respect.” Lord Ryutsuki looked quite satisfied with himself, “Our families have worked with each other for generations. <em> Of course </em> we’d know of your troubles. Lord Ikazuchi, are you saying that you would break your traditions? That by unifying the clans, you’d allow us to possibly know all of your clan’s secrets?”</p><p>“Things change,” Toshihaya said. “Clans change. Our symbiotic relationship through the years proves that we can fuse our clans to our benefit.”</p><p>Hayane managed to hide the look of surprise—Sandayu was less able to do so, and was now openly gaping at her father. Was Toshihaya this worried about the Gold and Silver brothers? This was unheard of. He was gambling away the clan’s independence and its secrets in an effort to save them from Kinkaku and Ginkaku. It only solidified the thought she’d been carrying around for years: the brothers were extremely dangerous. It seemed as though <em> anything </em> was preferable than having them close to the Ikazuchi’s hiden jutsu. </p><p>“Then it is settled,” Lord Ryutsuki smiled. His eyes had lit up, as though he had won the perfect prize. </p><p>Hayane bowed on cue, feeling numb to it all. </p><p>---</p><p>They returned to the house, and she threw off the many layers of kimono, pacing her room with strange restlessness. She sensed someone close by, and paused in her steps as a shadow appeared by the door. </p><p>“Come in,”</p><p>Kagone’s face appeared. “It’s always unnerving...how you all do that, I mean. Kohaya has started making mischief and stopping when I approach.”</p><p>Hayane managed to look impressed through her knots of stress. “I don’t even think I used our bloodline traits that early.”</p><p>“She develops faster than I can keep up,” Kagone smiled. “When Hayanosuke returns he may not even recognise her,” the tears fell quickly, and soon her face was a crumpled mess. </p><p>Hayane made her sit down, and called for a pot of tea. After a time, Kagone had subsided into dry sobbing, holding her head in her hands as though she could not bear to keep it upright. It was a grief Hayane felt too, but not one she could show. There was an intense pressure on her soul—a stifling thing that made it difficult to breathe. It was the not knowing, the constant dread. The same feelings she had when her father and brother left to fight before the village had been established.</p><p>“I had a dream about him,” Kagone said at last. “That he was trying to tell me something, but he couldn’t. Then he was gone, and I woke up, and I felt empty. Alone in a way I've never been.” She wiped her swollen face and looked her sister-in-law full in the eye. “The dream was...unlike any other, Hayane. Please summon the guardian and ask it again. Please.”</p><p>Was it simply a dream? Or had it been the guardian's brand? Ikazuchi voices rarely, if ever appeared to those who joined the clan by marriage, but Hayane could not dismiss the thought easily. She knew the strength of the bond that Kogane and Hayanousuke had. </p><p>Still, she was hesitant to take the next step. “Father asked several days ago. Did he not tell you?”</p><p>“No, ask it today,” she reached across the table, grasping Hayane’s hands. Kagone’s fingers were cold, as if all the life had gone out of them. “That vision was too <em> real</em>. You know I have always thought of you as my own sister, so do this for me. I need to know.”</p><p>The feeling of dread deepened. She didn’t want to do it—she didn’t want to know. She looked at her sister-in-law, who looked to be at the very end of her tether, and shelved the fear. She nodded to Kagone, and opened the sliding door towards the yard. Hayane drew the short dagger that she kept in her obi, and pricked her right thumb. In her mind, she repeated the forbidden, unspoken name of the being she wanted to bring forth, and placed her palm down into the dirt of the garden. </p><p>Smoke engulfed her vision, and the noise in her head grew louder—this unintelligible cacophony of voices, stretching back through time. They drowned out every thought in her mind, only retreating to a dull roar again when she pushed them back with force. The ancestors sealed within the guardian were truly a talkative bunch. </p><p>In the yard stood a being twice as tall as an ordinary man, with a distinctly feminine body, its long, fiery braid trailing behind onto the dirt. Its skin was hard, stone-like and deep blue, naked to the waist where she wore full tiger’s skin. Her orange rimmed, ruby eyes turned towards Hayane, bowing slightly as a long necklace of gold, pearls and animal bones jingled.</p><p>Her deep voice was not as monstrous as her looks, instead being polite and cultured. “Lady Hayane.”</p><p>Hayane returned the bow. “I’ve called you for the same reason my father did. You’re the aspect who fetches the bodies, correct?” she swallowed before asking the next question, steeling herself. “Have you taken my brother’s?”</p><p>One Braid of Hair, as she was called aloud—seemed to hesitate. Hayane felt her heart drop to her stomach. “Today I did. How did you know?”</p><p>There was the sound of breaking china behind her, and Hayane turned to find that her sister-in-law had collapsed, throwing the table over. Soon enough, maids rushed into the room to investigate the noise; several of them started at the sight of the guardian, but calmed after the initial shock. They were all used to the guardian’s aspects by now. Hayane watched them haul Kagone away from the shards of the tea set, feeling numb. She finally turned to One Braid of Hair again. </p><p>“His wife felt something. Perhaps he came to her using the brand,” she said hollowly. “What happened to him?”</p><p>“From what I was able to gather, he was captured by a creature under the control of Kakuzu—a shinobi from Takigakure. I don’t know how he was taken, but it seemed he was alive for quite some time under its care,” she explained. “He was killed by this shinobi, and I retrieved him. I believe he wanted the body for something, but of course, he did not get it. He attempted to fight with me, but I’m afraid I did not kill him.”</p><p>“I see. Please wait here. I will fetch my father.”</p><p>Hayane moved without feeling the floor beneath her feet—as though the world was hidden to her behind a sheet of gauze. Her father had already come into the hallway, having been roused by the flurry of activity. His wife, Natsuyo remained behind him. Her face was carefully blank, but the look in her eyes was knowing; she seemed like a condemned prisoner, awaiting the executing blow. Had Hayanousuke come to their mother too?</p><p>“What’s happened?” Toshihaya demanded.</p><p>Hayane didn’t know what to say. She led her parents back to her room, where the maids were currently fanning Kagone and placing cool towels on her head and neck. The woman had passed into a stupor, her eyes half-lidded and unseeing. Without pausing, Hayane walked towards her, stepping over the broken china to kneel at her side, her haze breaking somewhat. She felt Kagone’s feverish pulse, and began raising her own chakra.</p><p>Toshihaya had gone silent when he spotted One Braid of Hair. He crossed the room, leaving his wife to stand in the doorway and survey the scene. At his approach, the guardian bowed, a gesture that he returned. </p><p>Her voice was quieter this time, carrying a hint of regret. Hayane had always wondered <em> what </em> the guardian felt towards them—were they simply sustenance after all these years? Was there something more? “I am sorry, Lord Ikazuchi. I have collected your son today.”</p><p>It was strange. Hayane had thought her father was prepared—after all, that very morning, he discussed his son as though he’d <em> known </em> already. Perhaps it was the confirmation, or perhaps he’d been bluffing, but now, her father staggered against the screen door. Natsuyo finally entered the room, darting towards her husband to half-support him. Hayane looked up from Kagone, pausing in her efforts to calm the woman’s heartbeat with chakra. She froze.</p><p>One Braid of Hair had reached out, a large, stony hand to take hold of her father’s other side as he sank towards the polished wooden hallway. Natsuyo was stroking his hair, a tenderness that their children had never witnessed before; Toshihaya remained staring straight ahead. When Kagone’s pulse slowed to normal, Hayane got to her feet. </p><p>“Let her be, for now. She’s fine.”</p><p>She approached her parents, and took a moment to check her father’s condition. His vitals were fine—he was shocked, perhaps, but fine. The three sat in silence, and slowly, it began to rain again. Instead of retreating, One Braid of Hair sat on the dampening earth, and remained with them. She didn’t know why it stayed.</p><p>And so, Hayane became the Ikazuchi heiress, and the Ryutsuki were more enthused about the match than ever.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's really annoyingly difficult to differentiate between all the Ays, so I just used the Kage naming convention and called them "Shodai" "Nodaime" etc.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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